Odessen
Hangar Bay Elevator
0500 Hours

Zolah followed Fynta's progress through the base via the security cameras. She'd timed her interception in the elevator to cut off Fynta's escape routes. After some deliberation with Vector, and a few quiet threats in key places, they'd ascertained the commander's full scheme. The tricky part had been deciding what to do about it.

Fynta, like so many soldiers, operated under the misguided notion that she was the only one capable of fixing her own problems. Though Zolah would prefer to stay in the control room in case Theron's team made contact, Vector would not be swayed. He was more than capable of seeing this mission through without her, but Zolah had already lost contact with Theron. It pained her to admit that the thought of losing Vector too brought her to near panic. She came up with some excuse as to why she was the only one capable of hacking the Republic's systems and volunteered herself for the rescue mission. Vector's quiet smile nearly made her back out.

Checking off the final preparations for their mission, Zolah confirmed that Vector had gained access to the Thunderclap and had begun preliminary checks while she waited. The doors opened, revealing the commander of the Alliance with a rucksack thrown over one shoulder and a startled expression that pulled at the corner of Zolah's facade.

Zolah didn't look up from her datapad. "Seems rather foolish to take on a Republic infiltration by your lonesome." Slowly, her gaze lifted, pausing on to the tattoo surrounding Fynta's right eye. "Especially with such a recognizable face."

Blue eyes narrowed as the commander stepped in. "Theron or Vector?"

Zolah lifted one noncommittal shoulder. "Does it matter?" Finishing her task, she tucked the datapad out of the way. "You should recycle the passcodes on the Thunderclap more often. It was far too easy to break into."

Rage colored Fynta's cheeks an interesting shade of red. She pointed at Zolah, half a breath away from jabbing the accusing finger into her chest. "If you think disabling my ship will stop us—"

"Nonsense." Zolah waved the threat away with the same casualness that Vector had dismissed Elara's debt. Fynta's mouth dropped open, then snapped shut as suspicion took over. Zolah offered her sweetest smile. "Do you have a plan?"

"You show me yours, and I'll show you mine." Fynta's adolescent response was delivered with the expected grin.

Zolah hummed an amused sound that didn't make it to a chuckle. "Vector is currently performing preflight checks on your ship. I imagine your husband has discovered this by now, or soon will. It wouldn't do for us to miss our floor." Her gaze dipped towards the still blank control panel. Fynta spun with a curse and smashed the ball of her hand against the hangar bay selection that she desired and they continued the trip in silence.

Stepping off, Zolah was pleased to see the boarding ramp lowered and an armored figure checking off a list. It seemed that Jorgan hadn't met Vector's intrusion with as much animosity as Fynta had hers. Zolah couldn't say if that surprised her or not. Major Jorgan had a quick temper, but he was a logical man who knew when to accept aid.

Before they could approach, Fynta pulled Zolah to a stop. "Why?"

"Why am I going? Why am I allowing you to go? Or why did you not realize that you'd been made?" Zolah tipped her head, waiting for the answer to any of those questions. Fynta was brash, but even she couldn't expect to sneak off base without being noticed.

"Yes," Fynta answered, waving one arm at the ship. "All of them."

Zolah started walking again, one finger held aloft and leaving Fynta to catch up. "I am going because I am the best chance you have of pulling this off. You have training, but it is not nearly as extensive." She lifted a second when the commander pulled even. "Make no mistake. I have no stake in your family's drama, choices were made and consequences followed. However, Theron still considers you a friend, and I made him a promise. That, and Vector cares for you. For your last question…" Zolah paused to waggle the three didgets, savoring her next words. "You've gotten sloppy in recent years, not your fault, five years out of the game takes its toll, but I'll not risk the face of the Alliance because you've forgotten the fine art of subtly."

Fynta watched Zolah's fingers like a fish about to snatch bait from a hook. Her eyes narrowed, arms folding over her chest with a defiance that Zolah had become accustomed to. "I haven't gotten sloppy."

"Let me guess." Zolah began moving, covering the space between them and the Thunderclap at a quicker pace. "You're going to burst in, blasters hot, and hope for the best because—" the sound of her palms colliding echoed loud enough to make Jorgan glance up from his task. "—because you're Fynta."

"Fuck you," the woman snapped, in Basic no less. Zolah must have touched a nerve.

"Or," Zolah unlocked her datapad and offered it to the commander. "We could do it my way." She and Vector had begun contingency planning from the moment Jorgan arrived with Havoc in tow. With Theron's knowledge of Republic procedure, the whole thing practically built itself. Unbeknownst to her, Fynta had set the stage with her secret call to Elara for a bloodless extraction.

Fynta swiped through the screen, then doubled back around to the beginning. They'd reached the Thunderclap when she spoke. "Shab, this actually isn't half bad" A grin spread across her face as she returned the device. "It's damn good, actually. Okay, let's do this your way." She clapped Zolah on the back, kissed her husband's cheek, and started up the ramp.

Zolah blew out a long breath and shook her head. "I hate it when she does that." Instead of opposition, Zolah's plan had been met with total acceptance. Fynta Wolfe was still unpredictable, which made her both a liability and an asset. Zolah just hoped that whichever one the commander settled on this time, it worked in their favor.

The Thunderclap
En route to Carrick Station

"I'm going." Fynta looked up from fastening her thigh plates to find Aric glaring at her from the doorway. The stubborn set to his jaw was unexpected, as was the amount of anger in his voice. Truthfully, Fynta would have worried if he hadn't demanded to be included.

Holding her hands up, Fynta surrendered without fully knowing what they were arguing over. "Wouldn't dream of leaving you behind." She heard the exhaustion in his voice, though, and saw the pain in his good eye. The Cathar's headaches persisted despite receiving a clean bill of health. The technical term for it had too many letters for Fynta to pronounce, but the doctors assured Aric that the pain would recede with time. Of course, those same medical professionals probably hadn't accounted for a covert mission into Republic territory, either.

Aric snorted, then slumped onto the bed and dropped his head into his hands. Fynta stepped in front of him, letting her fingers slide up the back of his neck to massage his scalp. The muscles there were alway tense these days. She beat down her own sense of failure for putting her loved ones in this position. Not for the first time, Fynta teetered on the edge of what if, fantasizing about things that were impossible. "It's almost over, riduur. Just breathe."

Nodding, Aric rested his forehead against Fynta's stomach. "Yeah." After a minute, he stood and adjusted the strap encircling his skull. "Let's do this." He was so close to breaking that Fynta worried any more disappointment would tip him over the edge. She refused to fail her husband again.

The speaker in the corner of their room crackled, the irritating noise soothed by Vector's melodic tones. "Ten minutes until arrival." Fynta liked him better than anyone else in the Alliance. The Joiner was odd, but in an endearing way. She hadn't met a person yet whom he had failed to win over. The man must have been one hell of a diplomat in his day, and an even better sparring partner.

Aric's hands rested on Fynta's hips, guiding her to the side so that he could reach his helmet. Fynta caught Aric's arm as he started past her. Their eyes met, and he offered a small nod before disappearing behind the nondescript visor. She released him and turned to finish her own preparations.

Fynta's armor, now unrecognizable by anything that the Republic had in her file, made her just another mercenary in beskar. There were plenty of those these days, drifting through the system looking for easy targets. Aric had repainted his months ago, covering the Havoc symbol with black and brown in a splotchy job that looked amateurish. It had been a symbolic moment that made Fynta's gut twist. The day that Major Aric Jorgan turned his back on the Republic for good.

Zolah waited on the bridge, mulling over last minute details with Vector. She'd covered herself, revealing nothing but the eerie, red eyes that could have belonged to half a dozen other species. Sensing their presence, the Chiss glanced up. "Looks like everyone is ready. Vector, contact the tower with your suspicions and keep the engines on standby." She tugged the scarf around her face down long enough to give Vector a kiss, then turned towards Fynta and Aric.

"I see there is no making you see reason." Fynta nearly snapped back at the woman, when she realized that Zolah's comment was aimed at Aric. With a sigh, the Chiss pulled her scarf back into place. "Very well."

While Zolah shepherded Fynta and Aric from the bridge, she caught the beginning of Vector's call. He'd dropped the melodic tones of a Joiner for the pomposity of a nobleman. "What's the distraction?" Fynta asked when they were out of hearing range. She checked that her Verpine was loose in the holster, ticking off her options for non-lethal engagements if it came down to it.

Zolah released the clamps to lower the ramp. "A contract has been put on Vector's life and bounty hunters dog his every step."

A smile pulled at Fynta's lips. "Hostage take." If they were made, she'd grab Shillet as a shield and force Zolah and Vector to ferrie her off the station at blaster point. "I like it."

"I don't," Aric argued, voice tight and posture rigid. His faceplate angled towards Fynta, and she could read the Cathar's scowl without seeing it.

"Worst case scenario," Fynta promised, then pulled on her helmet so that she was as inconspicuous as the rest.

When the ramp finished it's decnet, Fynta swaggered off the ship and through the hallway leading to the main deck. They'd opted to ignore the lifts and keep to the stairs to avoid cameras. Elara should be in the cantina in twenty minutes, if all went according to plan. Hopefully, the kids were hungry after a fun-filled day at ActionWorld, and Elara had been instructed to take every delay possible while returning to the Republic. Fynta hoped that the guards were tired too.

Zolah whispered into Fynta's ear through the built in comms. "Vector has been granted clearance for immediate departure should his life be in danger."

"Good work." Fynta entered the cantina and leaned against the bar. She made a show of scanning the menu board while Jorgan looked over the restaurant. "Wander around and let me know if you see anything that could become a problem."

"Now, why didn't I think of that?" Zolah asked in a bewildered tone.

Fynta pictured the wide, red eyes and curled blue lips. She almost laughed, but stopped when Aric touched her arm. "There she is." Aric's voice rattled with suppressed emotion. He leaned forward, fingers twitching where they curled around her forearm. Fynta followed the angle of his visor to where a teenage Nautolan held the hand of a little boy with dark, shaggy hair. Elara came next, steering the children towards a booth in the back. "They've grown so much."

"Steady," Fynta replied, resting her hand on his. If not for the armor, she was sure that he'd have a crushing grip.

Together, Fynta and Aric watched Elara talk to the server droid, motioning for Shillet to do the same. Two men entered the cantina next, a lookalike duo of humans with high and tight haircuts and stiff gaits. "I see the muscle."

Aric didn't respond, but Zolah did. "I've patched into your helmet cam and am running ID checks. One moment…there. They are Republic SpecForce, likely your goons. Standard resumes for, no disciplinary marks...completely ordinary grunts."

The sneer in that Imperial accent tugged at Fynta's sense of competitiveness. She couldn't help but snap back at the famed cipher agent. "Glad to hear that I'm not as out of the game as you feared." Fynta poured as much false cheer into her tone as she dared. This time, Aric's visor turned towards her, a reminder that there were more important things at stake than her pride. She cleared her throat and moved on. "Are they going to be an issue?"

"Only if you get squeamish," Zolah replied. Aric rumbled deep in his throat, causing a passing Rodian to quicken her pace. "Fine, no casualties. You might have to get creative then."

Aric's posture went rigid, his sharp inhalation dragging Fynta's gaze towards their targets. Shillet stood, following Elara's outstretched arm to the bar. The Nautolan ambled over, fingers wrapped around the credits that Elara had given her, and stopped next to Aric. Shillet cast her father a wary glance, then stepped away. She couldn't have recognized his new armor, and understood when to keep her distance.

Fynta watched the guards glance away from their appetizer to do a head count, then return to eating. It had been hot on ActionWorld, no doubt. Those soldiers had chased two excited kids through the amusement park all day in heavy, blaster resistant fabric with senses on high alert. Now, they got to sit and enjoy a decent meal in a climate controlled environment. Fynta hoped it was enough to slow their reflexes.

"Two Nectrose Freezes," Shillet said when the server droid rolled down the bar. She dropped credits onto the counter, staring ahead when Aric slid closer. Fynta saw the girl tense and wondered if she'd bolt before they had the chance to snag her.

"I remember you being more polite than that." Aric's voice was low, barely a murmur. There was a gut wrenching sense of nostalgia in it. Pride, even.

Shillet's head snapped around, staring into the faceplate before remembering that she shouldn't make eye contact. Fynta took that as the signal to move, blocking the girl from view by stopping a drink droid. She heard Aric's smile through his speakers. "Are you ready to go home?" So much relied on the next few seconds, but Fynta was momentarily distracted by the surrealness of the moment. This was Aric's daughter, a girl that he'd raised for the last six years. A complete stranger.

The girl's arms lifted as if to hug Aric, then dropped back to her sides. Shillet had been an abstract concept that Fynta couldn't grasp for months. Now, she realized how connected they were, that this gangly Nautolan teenager needed Aric as much as he needed her. Fynta pushed the feeling of being an outsider down and focused on the task. "Move this along," she whispered when the droid ambled on its way.

Movement slid past Fynta's hip, and she looked back in time to see Elara's boy take Shillet's hand. "Mum says that I should use the loo before we eat."

Aric straightened, turning his back when the guards looked around for Shillet. Fynta returned to the bar and watched the room's reflection through the mirror above it. She saw Elara nod and knew that the woman had made the connection as well. "Go on, kid," Fynta said, urging Shillet to move on before their escort grew suspicious.

"Sure, Tayl," Shillet sighed without looking at Aric. "Let's find the bathroom."

"They're headed towards the freshers," Fynta reported while Aric watched the kid's progress. One of the guards wiped his mouth and stood to follow while the other stayed to shadow Elara. "The babysitter is en route, are you in position?"

A long pause followed, punctuated by a startled squeak. Zolah's smug voice followed. "I've got them. We'll take the maintenance corridor and meet you at the ship."

"I'm going to cause a distraction," Aric replied, pushing away from the bar. When Fynta looked at him, she could hear his smile. "I didn't think you'd leave without her."

"See you at the ship, riduur." Fynta waited for Aric to vanish after the guard. A second later, the one tailing Elara touched his ear, then bolted from his booth. Fynta hoped that Aric didn't enjoy his distraction so much that he couldn't make it back to the Thunderclap. Not when things were going so well.

Gabbing her drink, Fynta started for the booth and slid into the seat across from Elara. The woman tensed, attention jerking up from the tissue she'd been wrestling from her purse. Wet streaks decorated the woman's cheeks and Fynta clicked her tongue. "You didn't really think that I'd leave you here, right?"

Elara glanced around, panic edging into her eyes as they landed on the empty table where her escort had been. Her words fumbled through an accent thick enough that Fynta almost couldn't keep up. "Where are the children? This wasn't part of the plan, how can I return now that they have you on camera? Quickly, leave before they lock down the station."

Fynta leaned her elbows on the table. "This was never going to work." She saw in Elara's eyes what the woman already knew. "Losing Shillet will taint you no matter how elaborate the plan, Tayl going missing too? That's a coincidence no one could overlook. It's only a matter of time before they come after you. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life in a Republic brig?"

Elara shook her head. "I'll lead them to your base, you can't take me, I've…" her words trailed off, shoulders straightening with a nod of her head. "I've made peace with my future."

"Well, I haven't." Fynta stood, checking the exit for any signs of Aric's guards. "We'll figure out the tracking chip, but I'm not leaving you here. Cormac needs you...so do I."

Elara chewed her lip, grey eyes locked on Fynta with an uncertainty that she'd never seen in the former medic's expression. It was a stark reminder of the magnitude that now separated them. Years of fighting parallel battles so far from anyone they could trust. After a quick glance around, Elara finally nodded. "Very well."

Fynta turned towards the stairs, only to find them blocked by one of the guards. The one that Aric had gone after was nowhere to be seen, but this one looked pissed. "Aric, are you back at the ship?"

"I'm here, the kids too." Aric paused, and Fynta heard the resignation in his voice. "Are you about to make a scene?"

Fynta's hand drifted towards her blaster. "Maybe."

A heavy sigh answered, but it was Zolah who spoke. "Before you start a firefight, let me try something." Again, the insect-like chittering of fingers blazing across a datapad filled Fynta's helmet. Zolah chuckled. "I hope no one is afraid of the dark."

The lights blinked out before Fynta could respond, plunging the cantina in darkness. A pale, yellow glow bathed the room when the emergency generators kicked on. Fynta grabbed Elara's hand and broke into a run. She hit the trooper with her shoulder, toppling him and landing with a grunt on top of him. Elara darted past, heading for the lifts. When the guard tried to rise, Fynta's gauntleted fist convinced him to stay put.

Fynta scrambled to her feet, catching up in time for a bolt to ping off her armor. She grunted and stumbled forward, slamming into Elara when the woman turned to see what had happened. "Go," Fynta shouted, tucking her Verpine beneath one arm and using the side of her chest plate to steady against the kick with each squeeze of the trigger. Her aim went wide, scattering civilians and leaving harmless scorges along the walls. Fynta preferred not to shoot soldiers who were only following orders, but resolved that it wasn't outside the realm of possibility.

Another round struck Fynta's lower back, causing her prosthetic to stutter mid-step. She must have made a sound, because Aric was in her ear, shouting the order to keep moving. The other guard had recovered, kneeling beside his unconscious partner and snarling through blood streaked lips. The image was a grisly reminder of what it meant to get between a Cathar and his family.

Elara made it into an open lift, waving for Fynta to move faster. She cannoned into the small space and pinned Elara to the wall, using her body as a shield. Two more bolts made it through before the door closed, trapping them inside with a pilot who looked like he had one drink too few to deal with this osik.

Forcing a laugh, Fynta activated her external speakers. "Just like old times."

"I haven't missed this," Elara snipped, patting at her still perfect hair while the pilot pressed himself against the far wall with the expertise of a man who knew how to avoid getting shot once those doors opened. The women ignored him, and Elara even managed a tight smile. "But yes, I have missed you my irresponsible friend."

The doors pinged open to show Aric on the ramp of the Thunderclap, waving his hands. Elara ran first while Fynta covered their retreat in case station security decided to get involved. Aric slammed the palm of his hand into the ramp up button before Fynta had cleared it, gripping her arms to haul her the rest of the way in while Elara signaled the bridge to take off.

Their breathing sounded loud in the sudden quiet of the cargo bay, and Fynta jerked her helmet off to catch her breath. Aric pulled Elara into an uncharacteristic hug before holding her again at arm's length to check for injuries. With a thin smile, the Cathar cleared his throat. "Good to have you back, Dorne."

"Yes, sir," Elara breathed, looking around the familiar bay of the Thunderclap. "It's good to be back."

Fynta opened her mouth to greet her longtime friend, when Elara pulled out of Aric's grasp and slammed into her with enough force to take her back two steps. Her helmet skipped along the floor, stopping at Aric's boots. He smirked, picked it up, then started for the main room.

"Thank you," Elara whispered, arms so tight around Fynta's neck that she'd have been crushed were it not for the beskar. "That was a foolish thing to do, you haven't changed at all."

Fynta laughed, embracing her friend and allowing faded memories of their time together to flow through her newly repaired mind. Tension that she hadn't realized was there snapped, leaving Fynta giddy. Now that Elara was back, they were one step closer to being whole again.

The Thunderclap
En route to Odessen

Shillet touched her father's face with her left hand while Tayl clung to her right. The fur on the right side of Aric's head was indented by the straps of his eye patch. The strings settled over one ear and wrapped around it like a crown, but Shillet couldn't see past the way it aged him. Aric Jorgan, the infamously grumpy Cathar soldier, looked ten years older than he had the last time Shillet had seen him.

Letting her fingers trace the spots above his damaged eye, Shillet felt the warm prick of tears. "It doesn't hurt," Aric lied. She knew it had to be, because that's what parents did. They never believed that their children were strong enough for the truth, so they painted over it with pretty colors until the ugliness of their galaxy broke through. He ruffled her head tresses like when she'd been a kid, then pulled her into another ferocious hug.

Shillet let herself relax against her father, inhaling the comfortable scent of armor and blaster oil that always clung to him. Her arm tightened around Aric's waist while she silently wished that Tayl would find some other island of refuge. Just this once. It wasn't until he released her that Shillet realized that Tayl had been the only thing keeping her emotions in check. Without him to be strong for, her walls crumbled.

With a sob, Shillet and crushed Aric closer, fingers hooked in the back of his belt. She couldn't make her arms unlock, not even when she heard Elara's voice. The serene sense of being safe faded to be replaced by crushing grief that she'd almost lost everything. How close she'd come to never feeling her father's arms around her again. Aric stroked Shillet's head tresses and tucked her head beneath his chin. He didn't say anything, and she didn't expect him to. He held her, and that was enough.

"You're her. The one mum always talks about." Tayl's uncharacteristic greeting brought Shillet back to herself. She probably looked like an idiot, some blubbering child clinging to a parent instead of weathering her emotions like a soldier. She pulled away, surprised when Aric wiped at his own eye, then found Tayl holding Elara's hand and staring up at Fynta. They were across the room, but the air felt suddenly heavy knowing that Aric's wife was in the same space.

"Nice to finally meet you, kid." Fynta held out a hand, grinning like she'd just heard a joke and would be thinking about it all day. Shillet bristled and pressed closer to her father's side while Tayl stared up at the woman with awe. "I've heard a lot about you. Your mom and dad are good friends of mine."

Tayl's head tipped as he took Fynta's hand. The boy didn't offer any more words to the woman who'd ruined all of their lives, but Shillet didn't get the impression that he was afraid of her either. Tayl was a quiet boy, calculating like his mother but less prone to share his opinion. He studied every situation and never made a decision until he was sure. It had been a nightmare when he was a toddler, then mildly annoying as a school student.

"Come on, Tayl," Elara crooned. Her smile was radiant, lifting the years off that Aric had gained. "Let's see if the kitchen is stocked, I'm sure you're still hungry."

As she passed, Elara rested a hand on Shillet's shoulder, offering a warm expression that felt more like a plea than reassurance. Shillet crossed her arms and leveled Fynta with an unimpressed glare when the woman started towards them.

Aric wrapped one arm around Shillet's shoulder, holding his other hand out for Fynta to join them. "Come, meet our daughter."

Shillet's lip curled, bitter words slipping through her guard before she could stop them. "She's not my mom." Aric tensed and Fynta stopped short of taking his hand. Shillet almost apologized, then decided that she wasn't going to pretend that everything was okay. Shaking her head, she pointed towards the conference room. "Elara's my mom. You're the one that messed it all up."

"Shillet," Aric snapped, but Fynta held up a hand.

Shillet met the woman's measuring gaze for long seconds, refusing to break contact first. Her chin lifting, Shillet realized that she was nearly as tall as Fynta. The giant that everyone spoke so highly about was short. Sure, the older woman had more muscle, but that would come in time. Standing before her was just a woman, a regular human who wasn't even all that pretty. Her father could have done better.

"She's right," Fynta stated, the unexpected acquiescence stealing heat from Shillet's indignation. "I didn't raise her, Elara did. And she did a damn fine job of it, too."

Fynta's hand bridged the gap between them, hovering a respectful distance away. Shillet eyed the appendage, wondering if this was some sort of trap to get the upper hand in what was sure to become a contest for Aric's attention. She considered walking away, of telling her father that she needed time to process and joining Elara and Tayl where it was more comfortable, but that would disappoint him.

Grudgingly, Shillet accepted Fynta's offer in a loose grip that conveyed everything she couldn't say out loud. The older woman accepted, then smiled. "I've got to make a call. You two have some catching up to do."

When Fynta left, Aric sighed. "You're going to have to be nice to her eventually." With a hand on each shoulder, he directed Shillet towards the door that Elara and Tayl had vanished through.

"Maybe," Shillet admitted. She'd expected Fynta to muscle into their clique, to try and be the mother that everyone thought she needed. It was off putting to be told that she didn't have to put up a false front. Still, the woman couldn't be trusted. Not after everything her family had gone through.

Aric stopped and turned Shillet to meet his gaze. She did so stubbornly, her blatant stare an act of rebellion despite being overjoyed to be with him again. Shillet wouldn't feel guilty, not for speaking the truth that everyone else overlooked. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again in a sigh. A tight lipped smile, tinged with resignation, preplaced whatever her father had planned to say. "I'd almost forgotten how stubborn you are."

Shillet found a laugh somewhere inside. A manic thing that resonated from deep within, bubbling up so violently that it hurt. Aric pulled her into another hug, then kissed her forehead. "Come on. I stocked your favorite MRE."